A Middle Aged Cupid
by WoahThereLassie
Summary: Mr. Mushnik decides to play Matchmaker. A cute story filled with very short chapters. It's a quick read with lots of silliness!
1. A Burst of Inspiration

Gravis Mushnik ran a respectable flower business in uptown Skid Row and did a perfectly wonderful job, if he did say himself. There was always discipline in his workplace, always ethics, and always respect for the man in charge (which happened to be him). If you went into his shop unfocused, there would be hell to pay, and not just a stern talking-to from the boss.

Who was he kidding? Those morals are washed up. Baloney. Done for.

He knew he let his good-for-nothing employees get away with everything. His failure of a shopkeeper was the cause of most of his financial woes- replacing broken pots, fixing leaky pipes (they would be fine if he didn't try to fix them on his own, the schmuck!), and Mushnik was sure that he (the shopkeeper) drove most of the potential customers away with his sheer… awkwardness. The pathetic little guy. He had been an orphan when Mushnik took him in, and he was the shyest youngster he had ever met…

His girl employee was not bad at all. In fact, she was pleasant, thoughtful, organized, and easy to talk to. If only she didn't take so many sick days, she could be around to help his blasted shopkeeper manage the little flower shop. But the poor girl had the worst boyfriend imaginable, and she was too kindly to leave him for somebody better.

There they were: the wretched emotions that Mushnik felt towards his employees that stood in the way of him being brutal and running a MANAGEABLE shop.

If only they could fix their problems. If only they could find some way to be less… _pitiable._ Then Mushnik could run the shop the way-he-pleased.

'_The only thing my shopkeeper needs,'_ thought Mushnik, _'is someone to look after him. My girl employee needs a new boyfriend- one that will treat her the way she deserves to be treated.'_

Mushnik looked up from his desk at his employees. Something caught his eye.

Now, he knew, and had known for a very long time, that his incompetent shopkeeper had been smitten with his girl employee for the year that she had worked in his fine establishment. But never in his wildest thought had he imagined… a requited attraction!

For there it was, just in the way they spoke to each other.

"Say, Audrey," said Mushnik's shopkeeper to his girl employee, "Could… could you pass me those gloves?"

"Why, sure, Seymour," replied the girl to the boy.

And… their hands! They accidentally touched while passing the gloves. Audrey turned bright red and hastily turned the other way, while Seymour looked as though he might have thrown up into the pot of flowers in front of him. They were both so nervous!

And it hit Mushnik. They needed… each other! That is exactly what this place needed- a spice in relationships. Of course, he'd have to go through a period of infatuation, but he could live with that, because in the end they will both be focused.

Mushnik would get the shop he wanted!


	2. A Little Bit to Start

"All right, Audrey, it's closing time, you can go home."

As Mushnik shut off the lights in the back, he massaged his head with his free hand. Never ever had he spent so much time puzzling over one subject! And it wasn't even a subject he liked!

But even after hours upon hours of wracking his brain, he still had no plan to make his employees admit their love for each other. Sure, he had thought of possible outcomes: joy, infatuation, giddiness… terrible for the workplace. In time, however, that would wear off, and he would be able to run a functioning flower shop for the first time in his life.

"Okie dokie, Mister Mushnik! Let me just lock up the display case," chimed Audrey musically. Mushnik glanced over to see his boy employee melt at the sound of her voice. Yeech. And then… a sudden inspiration!

"Psst! Seymour!" he whispered as he tried his best to make his way over to his boy employee without Audrey noticing.

"Y-yes Mister Mushnik, sir!" he yelped, obviously afraid he had done something wrong.

"Shh, shh! Elp-hay Audrey ith-way her oat-cay!" he muttered, shifting sloppily in-and-out of pig latin. Seymour looked utterly bewildered.

"I- I'm sorry?" he whispered back sheepishly.

"_Go help Audrey with her coat! Quick, quick, you imbecile!"_ he frantically whispered.

Seymour jumped a little and ran to Audrey's side. She was luckily just getting her coat down from the coat rack!

Seymour gulped and loosened his tie, obviously feeling uncomfortable. "C-can I help you with your coat, Audrey?" he stammered. Audrey looked flabbergasted, but proceeded to nod shyly and hand him the heavy black overcoat.

Mushnik went over to the cashbox, pretending to count money. Money that didn't exist, anyway. His eyes were secretly shifted to the couple standing in front of the shop's entrance.

Seymour's shaking hands fumbled with the coat, and for a little bit it was dangerously close to falling out of his hands. Mushnik then noticed Seymour look up to find Audrey smiling at him. Seymour then seemed to puff out his chest a little bit, and, with surprising gentleness, he slipped Audrey into her coat.

"Oh, thank you, Seymour!" she practically squealed. "That's so sweet! Good night!"

"Yeah… g'night," Seymour breathed, looking like he had just ran a marathon. As Audrey left, he turned to Mushnik. "Gee, Mister Mushnik… thanks."

Mister Mushnik gave a sound resembling "harrumph", and turned away, hiding the unmistakable grin that was settling on his face. His plan may be a success!


	3. Cupid's Discovery

Meanwhile, a cold blast of air hit Thelonius G. Cupid in the face as he scuttled past his latest's house. He was getting too old for this job. He was almost four years old, for crying out loud! How much longer was the Big Man gonna wait to hand over the job to some other baby?

He sneaked a peak in the window to see the woman standing curiously in front of the man he had just hit with one of his love-arrows. The man's eyes seemed to pop out of his head and his jaw dropped. Nothing Cupid hadn't seen before. The woman backed away slightly, obviously afraid of the change in this man.

"Timothy…?" she whispered.

"Cynthia… My God," he cooed, with a loving smile taking effect on his face. "I've never actually… I mean, just look at you now… I don't understand how it happened, but I… I think I've… Oh dear, I have! Forgive me, but I've _fallen_ for you, Cynthia!"

Cupid quickly snuck another arrow out of his quiver. The woman named Cynthia looked aghast. It looked like she was about to scream when Cupid fired his bow. Her scream melted into a shudder of breath and quick laughter, and she seemed to become a puddle on the floor.

"Oh, _Timothy!"_ she exclaimed, leaping into his arms. Cupid wanted to throw up. Why didn't they give this job to a girl? Girls could handle this type of stuff. He began to run as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. As he reached a comfortable speed, he flapped his wings and rose into the air, picking up a cloud of dust behind him.

Cupid absent-mindedly scratched his face while checking his radar for new prospects. As he was doing so, however, he felt… something. Something _off._

He looked down immediately and saw a shop with potted plants littering the rooftop. His curiosity was aroused, and he swooped down to have a look. Inside the shop, he found what was going on.

A man, a middle-aged man to be exact, was trying to play "matchmaker" between a boy and a girl. Anger flared up so quickly in Cupid it probably would have looked dangerous to onlookers, if Cupid wasn't invisible. This middle-aged man was being a mediocre version of himself! Trying to do his job! Trying to take over and interfere with the affairs of love! He hated when ordinary people did that. They have no idea what they are tampering with! Love is one of the most powerful and controlling things in the entire world.

Cupid's anger wasn't enough, however, to notice the obvious attraction between the boy and the girl. He examined them briefly. Experience told him that the boy was the stereotypical "friend-zone" guy; he was slouched, shaky, unconfident and shy. The girl was the classic "damsel in distress"; but it didn't seem like she was so confident, either. In fact, what these two had the most in common was their low self-esteem.

'_Ah,'_ thought Cupid, _'the old standby: "I don't deserve somebody like them."'_

He then took a look at the middle-aged man, who looked so confident in his work. What did he do? Absolutely nothing! Nothing at all! Cupid looked at his radar. Nothing was in the area… and if there was something, it wasn't urgent. He would stick around and wait until the boy and girl had left, and would confront this man. This idiot. This… love-poser!


	4. Chapter 4

Mushnik was dancing down the street. He hummed a tune to himself, occasionally hitting bricks in time with his song. Ba-tum-ba-kisshhh, doo doo doobee waahhh! How liberating! He hadn't had this much fun in years. It's true, yes, that he could've puked at the sight of Seymour simpering over Audrey (Mushnik would never admit to himself more than twice in his life that he _liked_ seeing the boy happy). But he did like the way she looked at his shopkeep. He had always liked her, and she deserved a nice boy. And Seymour was as nice as any other boy he had around… which was only Seymour. Ba-dee-ba-doo…

Suddenly, Mushnik had tripped. Something had been caught under him. He flailed in the air before regaining his balance. After surveying the area (NOT wanting anyone to see, he was a grown man for God's sake) and finding no one around, he looked down at the nuisance. It was a bottle. With a piece of paper inside of it.

Why was he so drawn to it?

Mushnik grunted. He felt the need to remind himself of his status: old, strong, manly, _not _curious. He was not a schoolgirl picking flowers on her way home. He didn't wear Mary Janes or pleated skirts. He didn't even know what "pleated" meant. Mushnik walked away, vowing never to have urges to read messages in foreign bottles.

And he hurled himself back to the bottle, strangely intrigued. Perhaps it was a death note! Someone could be after his life! He knew he was important. He knew people wished they had his shop; he knew people envied him! This was not a matter of curiosity, he told himself- this was a matter of life and DEATH. He tried to carefully remove the message from its container, but his fingers were too- I mean, the bottle opening was too small for his fingers. He shrugged and smashed the bottle to the ground, which was messy, but freed his target. He unrolled it and read:

_ Hey u. Stop wit dis. Dont do my jawb. Last warneg. –C_

Mushnik was confused. Couldn't people write anymore? Was the illiteracy rate in this country really down the tubes? Wait! A last warning! Who was this "C"? Who was sending him secret messages? Mushnik would never admit this, but he began to shake. A siren rang in the distance and somewhere to his right shouts of a fight could be heard. Mushnik hurried home.

AUGH this Chapter was short! But I found it and I want to continue this story! Just letting you know I'm hoping to continue updating.


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